


remain within your reign

by dontcallmeking



Category: Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic
Genre: Bisexuality, F/F, F/M, First Kiss, Heteronormativity, Internalized Biphobia, Internalized Homophobia, Light Angst, M/M, Sexual crisis, Sexual exploration, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, original society, playing fast and loose with canon, the ocs are lesbians so don't worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-23
Updated: 2016-10-23
Packaged: 2018-08-24 07:35:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8363380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dontcallmeking/pseuds/dontcallmeking
Summary: Mystras wishes he didn't love him, but he can't stop.





	

**Author's Note:**

> The F/M is like 5 paragraphs in, so if you don't want to read a very tastefully written blowjob from a prostitute, you can skip that part.
> 
> Title comes from Lauren Aquilina Song "Wonder." It's really good and sets the mood for the fic, so I recommend listening to it! Here's a [link](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5x2VD7QtNwI)
> 
> (the first half is edited, the last half is not, I just really wanted to get this posted)

Mystras can’t help but be fascinated by Sinbad. He charming, charismatic, ambitious, determined, persuasive, beautiful… Mystras could go on. He’s a true king; if not in position, then in heart. There’s something about Sinbad that calls people to him, to follow him. It feels natural for Mystras to fall into step behind him, watch what he does, and try his best to mimic.

They’re in a brothel (Sinbad loves those) and there’s a girl on Sinbad’s lap and two on either side. The brothel is dark and the air is pungent from incense and smoky from hookahs. The girl he’s paying asks if he wants his drink topped off. He accepts the offer and takes a small sip. He doesn’t have a high alcohol tolerance and he doesn’t want to make a fool of himself at this brothel, too. His eyes find their way back to Sinbad as he flirts and smiles and entices the prostitutes to him. Over his time as Sinbad’s follower, Mystras has learned of Sinbad’s more voracious sexual appetite.

The girl by Mystras’s side slides into his lap with a smile. “Hey,” she says, “wanna get out of here?”

He feels a red burn light in his stomach and he nods with a nervous smile. He can feel his hands tremble around his drink and he sets it down so he doesn’t spill. She places sucking kisses down his neck and twists her hips in a way that has him sucking in a shaky breath. His stomach jumps as she slides off, places her dainty hand in his, and guides him with a surprising amount of strength, to one of the brothel’s backrooms.

It’s even darker there than the main room, even when she lights a candle. Mystras fiddles with the ties of his armor, unsure what to do. She glides across the room towards him with a smile on her face.

“What do you want me to do?” she asks him. Mystras’s hesitation is a palpable force. The smile doesn’t leave her face. “What are your fantasies?”

Mystras gulps and recalls his nighttime visions of strong hands gliding down his skin, holding him, of experienced and chapped lips bush over his collarbone, biting and sucking. He thinks of muscles, a strong back, biceps, and thick thighs around his waist as he is fucked. He looks to the side.  “Ummm… I don’t know…” because that’s easier to say than admitting he has sexual fantasies about another man. Mystras had thought the outside world would be different from Sasan. That there would be freedom of choice in regards to love and sex. That he wouldn’t have to keep part of himself locked inside a box.

Don’t get him wrong, Mystras loves women (they’re soft, kind, pretty); but he loves men, too (they’re strong, bold, handsome).

“Do you want me to suck you off?” she asks with nonchalance, bringing Mystras back down to earth. He nods because when is he going to get the chance to have this done to him again? Even in brothels, Mystras doesn’t get a lot of action. He’s too nervous and timid. Unsure. He wishes he could know what he wants and take it like Sinbad. He unties the laces on his pants and pulls out his half-hard cock. She rubs him until he’s hard and goes down on her knees. She puts the tip of the head into her mouth.

His hands move to hold onto long, silky hair and he loses himself to the feeling and the dark and the fantasy of golden eyes staring up at him.

\--

Sinbad is drunk when he throws an arm around Mystras’s shoulders on their way back to the hotel where they are staying. Mystras is only slightly tipsy after drinking to forget what he had desired in the dark of the backroom. Sinbad is leaning most of his weight on him and his breath is hot in his ear, even if it smells like cheap ale.

“You got laid,” Sinbad laughs heartily, “hah! How does it feel? It feels good, right?”

Mystras chuckles nervously, glad that Sinbad is too drunk to notice his discomfort. “Yeah. It was great.”

“So, what did she do to you? It was your first time right?” Sinbad sighs and leans more heavily onto Mystras. “I remember my first time. Women are so silky and smooth and soft.”

“Oh, um,” Mystras flushes thinking of Sinbad having sex. There’s a reptilian part of his brain that hisses out _why don’t you imagine it was you, not a woman? Think of Sinbad having sex with you_. “I didn’t have, um, _sex_. She just um. Sucked me off?”

Sinbad nods and his head lolls a bit to the side. “That’s always nice. Prostitutes are so good at that,” he laughs again. “But I guess that’s their job.”

“Yeah,” Mystras says. His brain reminds him of the feeling, and how it was enhanced when he started to imagine Sinbad blowing him instead of the girl.

“Was that your first blow job too?” Sinbad asks. Mystras nods sheepishly, feeling embarrassed.

“Special,” Sinbad says. “Want to know what I did?”

_No_ , Mystras thinks, but instead he says. “Yeah, what did you do?”

“I went with two girls at once,” he says proudly. “It was the first time I’ve ever done that,” he pauses. “I’m not sure how I feel about it. It was nice, but I don’t know.”

Mystras can’t even fathom having sex with more than one person, because he’s never had sex with even one. Also, things like that were outlawed in Sasan. Mystras wonders what it would feel like and finds himself curious.

“What was it like?” he asks, because he can’t help himself. Sinbad purses his lips and hums.

“It felt good but I think it would be easier with two dicks.”

“Two?” Mystras asks, appalled. How would that even work?

“Yeah like two men and one girl,” Sinbad says. “It’s easier to pleasure men. I kept feeling like I was leaving one of the women out. They’re prostitutes so they exist to pleasure me, but,” he smirks at Mystras, “I’m a giving lover.”

Mystras’s face heats at the look. He knew Sinbad was a giver, anyone with eyes could tell that would be his preference. Mystras files the confirmation of that information away for later use.

Sinbad continues to ramble.

“Have you ever wanted to suck a dick?” he asks. “I always wonder what it’s like when mine is sucked. What does it feel like in your mouth? How does it taste? What’s it like to swallow? I bet I’d be good at it. I’m good at sex,” he laughs again. “I’m good at a lot of things,” he pauses. “I think I’m good at everything I try.”

“You’re very talented, Sinbad,” Mystras says neutrally. Sinbad brightens up, as he always does when he gets an idea.

“Hey, Mystras! Let me suck your dick!”

Mystras sputters and coughs at the sudden request. He feels like his face is on fire. They stop walking and Mystras stares at Sinbad’s wide, golden eyes and cheeks flushed with drink.

“Excuse me?”

“Well, we’re the same age. Also, sexually active. I want to try it.”

Mystras bites his lips and takes in a deep breath. “Talk to me when you’re sober.”

“But _Mystras_ ,” Sinbad whines. “I won’t do it when I’m sober.”

“ _Exactly_ ,” Mystras says and huffs out a breath. “If you don’t want to do it when you’re sober, then you’ll regret it in the morning. Besides, you don’t like men. All you talk about is women. And I think if you’re drunk enough to want this when you’ve always been disgusted by men before, then it’s not consensual! And also, that’s completely inappropriate! In Sasan, you have to go through the phases of courtship before engaging in sexual activity.

_Flimsy excuse_ , Mystras thinks, _since I just got a blowjob from a prostitute. But I would like to court him, before we did anything. I like him too much for a relationship to just be about sex_.

Sinbad hums, taking in what Mystras has said. “Well, you’re not wrong I guess,” he shakes his head. “Wow, I need to sleep this off.”

Mystras nods. “Yeah. You’re really drunk this time. What happened?”

Sinbad shrugs, looking down at the street before them as they continue to walk. They’re both silent until they reach their room at the inn. Sinbad watches him as Mystras opens the door and helps him sit down.

“You never go to the back with girls when we go out,” Sinbad says. Mystras pauses from where he was taking off his armor to sleep.

“What?”

“I didn’t like it,” Sinbad continues as he flops down on the bed. He rolls over, his hair fanning out behind him. Mystras feels the urge to take it out of the ponytail and brush it. “You always watch me when we go out. I didn’t like it when you stopped to look at that woman.”

His breath catches in his throat as he stares at Sinbad’s back. His voice cracks slightly. “Sinbad…”

There’s a snore from Sinbad’s bed and Mystras breathes shakily as he lays down. He pulls the coverlet up over his nose and stares at the ceiling. Mystras doesn’t think he’ll be able to sleep.

\--

Mystras is right. He can’t sleep. He sighs, pulls on his pants, and leaves the room to sit in the lobby of the hotel. A fire is going and he’s alone. He watches the flames crackle and snap, eating the wood that’s feeding it. He’s not sure how long he sits there.

He keeps thinking about Sinbad’s words, unsure what to make of them. _He knows I watch him. He wants me to watch him. He doesn’t want me to sleep with women._ All of this is news to Mystras.

The floor behind him creaks and he turns around, relaxing as he sees Hinahoho. Hinahoho raises an eyebrow and sits down next to him.

“What are you doing up?” Mystras asks. Hinahoho smiles forlornly.

“I always miss Rurumu on nights like this. I miss our children. It makes it hard to sleep sometimes. What about you?”

Mystras shakes his head, unsure what to say. “I just… couldn’t sleep.”

“Any particular reason? Bad dream?”

“No,” he says honestly, and maybe it’s the lateness, the fact that he had been drinking (he’s sober now, though), or that Hinahoho is so paternal in a way Darius had never been, but he decides he can trust him with his most closely guarded secret. “I like men,” he whispers as a log breaks from the flame surrounding it. It crumbles into ash and the fire soars, as if it’s happy it had caused the destruction of the log’s life. Hinahoho is silent beside him and Mystras closes his eyes, tucking his knees under his chin. He doesn’t want to look at Hinahoho’s face, his reaction. _He hates me now_ , he thinks, _what have you done? You’re traveling in a group of men! Of course none of them will want you there now!_ “I’m sorry,” Mystras says quickly. “Just forget I said anything!”

“Mystras,” Hinahoho says comfortingly. “It’s okay. There’s nothing wrong with liking men.”

Mystras bites his lip, suddenly overcome with emotion. It’s a weird feeling, to hear someone tell him it’s okay, when he’s been internalizing his desires for as long as he can remember. He wishes that _his_ father would tell him it’s okay, even though he knows that will never happen. Not the Knight King of Sasan.

“I like girls, too,” Mystras tells Hinahoho. Hinahoho nods.

“There’s a god in the old religion of Imuchakk who lives at the bottom of the sea with her female lover. There are legends where she has relations with both men and women. It’d be hypocritical of me to think badly of you for it.”

“Thank you,” Mystras says, and he feels it deep in his bones, more sincerely than anything he’s felt before. They’re silent for a while, watching the fire eat the logs and start to die.

“I like Sinbad,” Mystras whispers, breaking the silence. Hinahoho nods.

“I figured as much.”

“I know it’s stupid and that nothing will come out of it, but I just. Can’t help myself.”

“It’s not stupid to have a crush on someone,” Hinahoho says abruptly. “You can’t control who you like or why you like them. It just happens.”

“But Sinbad doesn’t like men,” Mystras says.

“Sinbad…” Hinahoho trails off, gathering his thoughts. “Sinbad has a lot of internalized issues with things he has no experience with. Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying he’s prejudiced. He grew up in a small town filled with women and children. He never had to experience men liking men, and if there were women who liked women in his village, I doubt he’d realized it because he was so young. Artemyra was upsetting for him because he’d never seen men placed into the situation of women before.”

“I’m not sure what you’re getting at,” Mystras says.

“I don’t know if it’s necessarily that Sinbad doesn’t like men. I think the situation is probably somewhere more along the lines of: Sinbad doesn’t _know_ that he likes men. I’ve been Sinbad’s companion for years –since he was fourteen. There have been times where I’ve seen him look at an attractive man. I’ve seen him charm men and women. If he likes both, he probably hasn’t reached the point where he can accept that part of himself yet.”

“Would he hate me if he knew?” Mystras asks. He doesn’t want to hold any hope that Sinbad will return his feelings.

“Honestly, I’m not sure,” Hinahoho tells him. “While Sinbad is very open-minded, I don’t know if he’d be open minded about _this_.”

\--

Deep in the libraries of Sasan, where Mystras was never supposed to go, was a section on cultures across the world. Forbidden books that are believed to lead to blasphemy and a fall from God. But they’re historic, archaic. Mystras had read them all. He remembers one particular society called Or, where they believed in the protection of nature. They live in treehouses and travel through an expansive pulley system. In the writings of Sasanian travelers, they had been called deviants who sinned against God’s law because they allowed their people to practice same-sex love. For the Orans, sometimes it was a way to find release before marriage, and for others it was simply what they preferred. The Orans, scholars had written, were sexually active and open. There had been pages and pages waxing on the strength of the Sasanian travelers who had resisted the temptation of the Orans deviance through prayer.

Mystras had always wondered what it would be like to live in a place where you didn’t have to hide. In the time it took for him to accept that he liked men, he had gone back to reading about the Orans and would try his best to filter out the bias, to read about a whole society of innovative, intelligent people, who would accept _him_.

Sinbad had wanted them to travel into a deep forest after hearing stories from townspeople on the coast that there was a rich land inside with resources not found anywhere else in the world. Mystras remembers the Orans now, as something whizzes past his ear and he is suddenly tangled up into a net. It takes a few seconds for the panic to set in. He starts to scramble around in the net, hanging from the limb of a tall tree. They had only been walking in the forest for a few minutes. Mystras wonders if the entire floor is littered in traps, or if it was just their luck to walk through the one heavily guarded path.

“Mystras, calm down,” Sinbad’s voice is gruff from above him. Mystras feels like his head was doused in cold water as he realizes their trapped in the net _together_. Sinbad’s legs are tangled with his and Sinbad’s face is close. Mystras feels his heart skip a beat in his chest and he feels flushed. “We’ll find a way out of this.”

“How?” he asks. “We can’t cut through the net! We’re too high up! And even if we get down, how long will it be before we’re trapped again.”

“I’ll think of something,” Sinbad tells him with a grin. Mystras feels helpless. He feels like he will do whatever Sinbad wants him to, completely willingly, if only Sinbad would ask. “Trust me.”

“I always will,” Mystras says aloud, though he doesn’t mean to. He puts his hands over his mouth as he stares up into Sinbad’s eyes. Sinbad’s eyes trace over his face and there’s a slight flush high on his cheekbones.

“Why?” Sinbad asks, quietly. Mystras has the sudden sensation that Sinbad is looking for comfort. He’s had a rough time, the past year. He was enslaved. He lost Zepar to Serendine. His confidence took a hit. He learned that his home nation is committing a purge, and while he’s not necessarily loyal to Parthevia, it’s still his _home_. His father died fighting its wars. His mother is buried there. Mystras can’t even contemplate Sinbad’s stress, but he wants Sinbad to feel better. To understand that he is supported and _loved_. That Mystras and Ja’far and Hinahoho and even Drakon will follow him to the ends of the Earth. They will die for him, if they must. That’s why they fought in the dungeon. They were protecting their king’s honor.

Mystras takes a deep breath and wraps his hand around the back of Sinbad’s neck. It’s sweaty there, under his hair. Mystras smiles. “You’re my king.”

Sinbad’s eyes widen, but the rest of his expression is unreadable. There’s emotion in his eyes and Mystras thinks he can see sadness there. Out of instinct, he strokes the side of Sinbad’s neck with his thumb.

“Thank you, Mystras,” Sinbad tells him, closing his eyes. He doesn’t comment on Mystras’s physical gesture of comfort, so Mystras keeps doing it. He figures that if anyone needs comfort, it’s Sinbad. Sinbad has done so much to help all of them; he purified Ja’far’s soul, gave Hinahoho confidence, took in Serendine, Sahel, Tabitha, and Drakon when they had nowhere else to go, risked his life and freedom to fix Vittel’s mistake, emancipated Masrur and other child slaves, fixed the government of Heliohapt and pushed for Sharrkan’s relationship with his older brother to be repaired, and he tried to bring Masrur home. He’d freed Mystras from Sasan and his father. He’d given them all so much, but he doesn’t let them help him in return.

“Sinbad,” Mystras calls Sinbad’s attention to him. Sinbad’s eyes are half-lidded when they open. “We’ll make you king.”

He breathes out a sigh and the air is warm on Mystras’s lips. “I have a long way to go before I’m ready to be a king. It’s like Serendine said. I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“You know more than she does about people,” Mystras says, “and isn’t the point of being king leading the people? Sinbad, we all want to follow you. We all want to be with you. If that’s not natural leadership, or a natural inclination to be a king, then I don’t know what else we can look for in this world.”

“Mystras…” Mystras shudders at the sound of his name sighed out of Sinbad’s mouth. He wants to hear it again, in so many different ways. He wants Sinbad to close the distance between them. He wants, he wants, he _wants_.

Sinbad’s head falls onto the junction of Mystras’s neck and shoulder and stays there. Mystras can feel Sinbad’s tension and high emotions. He’s a high-strung individual. He goes and goes and never thinks about stopping, even when it would be good for him. Mystras is happy to be with him when he needs to take a break and just _breathe_.

Mystras wraps one of his arms around Sinbad’s back and rubs it lightly with the tips of his fingers. It’s peaceful, even though they’re trapped by some isolationist people in the middle of nowhere. _It’s fine_ , Mystras thinks, _because we can have this moment of peace_ , before he wants to hit himself for his apparently extremely skewed priorities.

Mystras’s stomach drops as he and Sinbad start to be lowered from the net. Sinbad’s face becomes panicked and he straightens away from Mystras as soon as they hit the ground. The vulnerability that was there before has vanished. People, _warriors_ , are standing in front of them with their weapons brandished threateningly.

“Who are you?” asks the woman at the front.

Sinbad stands, holding out his hands in supplication. “I am Sinbad and these are my friends. We are travelers.”

The woman raises an eyebrow at him. “You’re nicely dressed for being simple travelers. Why are you really here?”

“We’re merchants,” Sinbad admits. “We were hoping to speak with your people and make a trade agreement.”

“I see,” says the woman. “I will bring you to the Exalt. She will decide what to do from there.”

“Lady Freaulai, are you sure we can trust these people?” asks one of the soldiers by her side. She waves off his concern.

“Iskinder, this is a group of children,” Lady Freaulai responds. “These two can’t be more than 18 and they’re travelling with children who look younger than 15. There is one adult in the group. I believe we can trust them, if only because they are young. Is it not our duty as adults to guide the parentless? Besides, my sister has been in a benevolent mood after her marriage, and her wife is interested in expanding our knowledge of the outside world.”

_Her wife?_ Mystras thinks. _Are these the Oran people?_

Lady Freaulai turns to them and places a hand on her hip. “Please, come with us, we will help you.”

Sinbad bows. “Thank you, my Lady.”

The group of natives turns from them and leads the way down a hidden path. _So they have a path only they can see, and an obvious one for travelers that is riddled with traps and danger. Are we really being let in so easily?_   The trees become thicker and the underbrush seems to grow more nourished underfoot as they continue to walk. The reach a section of the woods where the plants are so thick and interwoven, Mystras can’t even understand how to cross through them when Lady Freaulai and her soldier begin to scale the wall. Mystras and Sinbad share a look before they start to follow them, far slower. The natives are standing at the top, looking down at them with amusement. Mystras feels embarrassed.

Once they reach the top, Mystras realizes that they are actually standing in the branches of the large trees. He can feel excitement start to grow within him, because these _have_ to be the Orans. The sound of the names match, the environment, the fact that a woman is the leader and she apparently has a _wife_ … Mystras wants to be accepted again. He wants to know how Sinbad will react to the openness regarding same-sex relationships. He does feel a trickle of dread within him that this experience will be poisoned by prejudice, that it will be like the brothels in Artemyra.

The paths along the branches are well worn by probably hundreds of years of people traversing them. There are flowers and the buzzing of bees making honey. It smells like paradise. Mystras wonders if this is what God’s afterlife will be like. Flowers and love and acceptance.

They reach a manmade platform that leads into a thick tree trunk and they go inside of it. There’s stairs down and it suddenly opens into a large throne room. There are two thrones sitting next to each other and two women in each one. Lady Freaulai and Iskinder bow. Sinbad drops to his knees and Mystras follows his lead.

“Sister, who are these people?” asks the woman with a large headdress.

“Exalt, these are merchants, lead by Sinbad, who wish to make a trade agreement with us,” Lady Freaulai responds. “I thought making an agreement with them would be an appropriate gift to bless your union with Biftu.”

“I have been wanting to experience the outside world,” the other woman, Biftu, comments. “Darling, I want to talk to these travelers.”

“Of course, my love,” the Exalt responds. Mystras watches with fascination through his eyelashes as she leans over to place a loving kiss on the side of Biftu’s head. Biftu giggles lightly and pecks the Exalt on the lips. Mystras feels his heart clench. _I want this_ , he thinks. He has a sudden vision of Sinbad resting on him, like he had when they were trapped earlier. He’s stroking his hands through Sinbad’s hair, brushing it out. He can feel Sinbad’s smile against his skin. Sinbad huffs out a laugh and says _I love you, Mystras_ and Mystras giggles and responds with _I love you, too, my king_ and Sinbad will then lean forward and place a soft kiss on his nose. Mystras will laugh and move his face to capture Sinbad’s lips in his and they’ll lie in bed and ignore their responsibilities because they’re so entranced by their love.

Mystras _wants_. He wants more than he’s ever wanted anything in his life and he wonders to himself, _why is love so painful?_ he starts to panic inside as he questions _is this love? Am I in love with him?_ Mystras has never been in love before.

He’s never felt this way about someone before.

“Merchant Sinbad,” the Exalt begins, “lift your head. While we make agreements, we are equal partners in business.”

“Thank you, Exalt,” Sinbad says graciously. He looks a bit off balance as he sees the Exalt’s wife intertwine their fingers together.

“Sister, thank you for bringing these foreigners to me, you are excused.”

“Of course, Exalt,” Lady Freaulai and Iskinder leave to join their soldiers waiting outside. The Exalt stands and so does Biftu. She gestures to a footman.

“Ready the meeting room for guests,” she commands. The footman leaves as the Exalt and her wife come down from the throne platform and stand in front of Sinbad. Mystras realizes how small these people are. The Exalt smiles kindly at him. “Welcome to the country of Or, we are excited to have you.” She turns her gaze to Mystras. “Ah, a knight from Sasan. Biftu, my love, you have learned the histories; weren’t the Sasanians the last guests we’ve had?”

Biftu nods. “ ‘–And we rode them like warhorses encased in metal,’” Biftu laughs. “Those Sasanians were crazy in bed. My teacher always told me it’s the repressed ones who have the most desires.”

The Exalt stops holding Biftu’s hand and instead wraps an arm around her waist, tugging her close.  
“While you and your friends are here, if you require a companion, let us know. There are many people who would be very interested in experiencing the passions of outsiders.”

“Thank you for your hospitality,” Sinbad says, though he still doesn’t look like he understands how to interact with women who aren’t throwing themselves at him. Mystras wonders if these women only like women, or if they like both like he does. They start to walk as a group towards the meeting room. Mystras takes the time to look into the faces of his companions. As he thought, the only one who seems particularly bothered by the female exalt having a wife is Sinbad. Mystras remembers what Hinahoho said to him weeks ago, about Sinbad having internalized prejudice because he never experienced it growing up. Mystras experienced it himself, though his experience was being told that it’s wrong and blasphemous to love another man.

“So, Sasanian,” Biftu starts, “is it still taboo to love a member of the same sex in your country? There are records of how amusing it was to see the reactions of your people to our ways.”

Sinbad is looking at him out of the corner of his eye and Mystras gulps. “I was told growing up that it was a sin against God to love another man, but after exploring in the outside world, I personally think that there’s nothing wrong with it. I’ve learned so much from other cultures and people, that it makes me think something along the lines of… if it’s moral in one country, but immoral in another, what’s the real answer?”

“You seem very open-minded,” Biftu says. “We had trouble with your people in the past. They were so righteous, at least until they experienced it for themselves and gave in. I’m excited to see how your views and lifestyle differ from what we have recorded in the histories.”

“My wife is a griot,” the Exalt explains. “She has all of the histories memorized.”

“How did you meet?” Mystras asks, curious.

“Biftu was performing the Ballad of Aster and Adia. Her dance and song were so beautiful, I had never seen anything like it,” the Exalt smiles at her wife. “I fell in love with her and started trying to court her.”

“She was so awkward about it,” Biftu giggles. “She wouldn’t want to say that she was in love with me, but it was written all over her face. She kept following me around and would sometimes bring me flowers because it reminded her of ‘me,’ and she always wanted to hear stories of history, even though she could barely stay awake through them.”

“Be _quiet_ ,” the Exalt’s face is covered in a blush. “You fell for me, too.”

Biftu sighs and her face is so open and full of love for the Exalt that Mystras feels jealous. “I did.”

“That’s very romantic,” Hinahoho comments. “I was in love with my wife for the longest time before she finally agreed to marry me. It was pretty pathetic to be honest.”

“Do you have any children?” Biftu asks.

“Yes, we have a few,” Hinahoho laughs. “She recently gave birth to twins.”

“Adorable,” Biftu coos. “We were thinking of adopting, though nothing soon. We are recently married, after all.”

“Adopting?” Sharrkan asks.

“Yes, that’s the act of raising a child who you did not give birth to. Usually they are orphaned, or their parents are unfit to take care of them,” the Exalt explains. “It’s a way for couples like us, who have no interest in the opposite sex, to have children.”

“I’m sure any child would be lucky to have you as mothers,” Sinbad says politely. He’s been quieter than normal. Mystras wonders if it’s because he doesn’t know how to interact with women without the promise of sex as an undercurrent to conversation.

“Thank you for saying that, despite your discomfort,” Biftu responds.

“What makes you think I’m uncomfortable, my lady?” Sinbad asks. Mystras wants to roll his eyes. It’s obvious. Sinbad is trying too hard to look relaxed. He’s tense around his shoulders and around his mouth and his eyes.

“Your posture,” Biftu explains. “We aren’t offended. We understand that our way of life is not common in the outside world. I hope this won’t influence your desire to trade with us?”

“Not at all,” Sinbad responds. “It’s true that this isn’t common anywhere else I’ve travelled. I guess I just haven’t been exposed to it before.”

“There’s a new time for everything.”

Mystras suddenly remembers their conversation when Sinbad was drunk and wanted to suck his dick. Mystras is amazed at how far they’ve come since then. He wonders if Sinbad remembers it.

“Now, if we can get down to business,” the Exalt says, gesturing for paper to be placed at the table. Mystras shifts in his seat to get more comfortable. Hashing out trade agreements is always rough.

\--

It’s late at night, after Hinahoho has put the children to bed and gone to rest himself, when Sinbad approaches Mystras’s bed. His eyes are bright, a molten gold, lit by the pure light of the moon, as if God himself is pointing to him saying _Here! Here he is! The true king!_ His teeth look like pearls when he smiles. Mystras is taken aback by Sinbad’s beauty.

“Want to go and explore? See what this city has to offer?”

“As in the fact that it’s in trees, or if they have any accessible brothels?” Mystras asks for clarification.

“Both,” Sinbad answers. “We haven’t gone out together in a while and I’m feeling frustrated.”

Mystras pulls the covers up under his chin. “I don’t want to try and carry you back drunk when we’re walking on the branches of a tree and falling could kill us.”

Sinbad frowns at him. “I haven’t been that drunk before. I have a really good alcohol tolerance.”

Mystras gapes. “Literally, the last time we went out I had to basically carry you back. You were so drunk. Do you not remember?”

“I wasn’t that drunk,” Sinbad mutters. Mystras sits up in bed, too fast to abort the mission when it brings their faces only a few centimeters away from one another.

“You asked to suck my dick!” Mystras says.

Sinbad averts his eyes and rocks back on his heels. “You said no.”

“Because you were drunk!”

“I just said I wasn’t that drunk!” Sinbad fires back. “I know what I said, alright?”

“You also said you didn’t like me being with girls when _you’re_ the one that brought me to a brothel in the first place. The point of a brothel is to have sex with women!”

“I didn’t think it would bother me, okay?” Sinbad snaps back. There’s a rustle from Masrur’s bed. Mystras remembers that Fanalis have superior hearing.

“We should go somewhere else if we’re going to talk about this,” Mystras says, gesturing his head towards the sleeping children. Sinbad nods stiffly, looking for all the world like he doesn’t want to talk about this anymore. Mystras needs answers, though, so he doesn’t feel like giving Sinbad a break. Mystras gets out of his bed and walks outside with Sinbad at his side. The silence between them is awkward and tense.

Outside, there are sounds of partying and people, but it might as well be completely silent with how uncomfortable it is. In all of their travels, there has never been this air between them. Mystras takes a deep breath.

“Why did it bother you when I went to the back with that girl?” he asks. Sinbad doesn’t look at him.

“I don’t know. I just didn’t like it. I guess, I’m so used to your attention being on me all the time, I was uncomfortable with it being directed at someone else.”

Mystras doesn’t know how to respond to that, without giving away his feelings, so he makes a split-second decision to just go for it. He’s kept everything he feels for Sinbad so bottled up, he can’t stand it. “I don’t like watching you with girls, either. I’m jealous.”

“Jealous? You’re attractive, Mystras. If you wanted to have more action with girls, you could. You’re just too excited around them.”

Mystras closes his eyes and hangs his head. “I’m not jealous of _you_ , Sinbad.”

Sinbad sucks in a breath. “I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

_Fuck it_ , Mystras thinks as he grabs the front of Sinbad’s shirt and pulls him in. Mystras has never kissed anyone before, but it doesn’t matter because it’s just a peck. Sinbad is frozen in place, staring at him as if he’s never seen him before.

“You like men?” Sinbad asks.

Mystras buries his face in his hands and feels like screaming. Through a tightness in his throat, he says thickly, “I like _you_ , Sinbad.”

“Me?”

Mystras lets out a strangled noise. “Yes. Sinbad. I like you. I want to kiss you and hold your hand and have you confide in me, okay?”

“I don’t know why, but hearing you say that makes me happy,” Sinbad says. Mystras wants to punch him in the nose.

“Really, is that all you’re going to say?” Mystras asks. He was prepared for so much more. Hatred, reciprocation. Literally, anything but indifference.

“That’s all I can say,” Sinbad says. “I’m not sure how I feel about you. Recently, everything’s been turned upside down. My goals, my worldview. I’ve been… thinking about you, when I watch you train. Now, being here, where it’s okay to have the same feelings towards men as women… I’m not sure about anything anymore. How did you accept yourself?”

Mystras sighs. “I’ve always liked both, but I hid it in Sasan since it’s illegal there. But you’re the first person that I’ve _really_ liked. I couldn’t deny how I felt to myself. It’s not weird to like the same sex, at least, I don’t think so. I read about the Oran people in Sasan’s libraries when I was trying to understand myself and it helped me a lot to know that there were people like me.”

“It was never an issue to me before I met you,” Sinbad says. “But thinking about it, I could see myself kissing you again. I meant what I said that night that I wanted to, um, do things to you.”

“I wanted you to,” Mystras admits, and then in a quieter voice, “I imagined you when the prostitute was going down on me. I pictured her being you.”

“You want me to go down on you?” Sinbad asks, Mystras wonders when Sinbad got so close to him. Mystras nods.

“But I don’t want it to just be a sex thing,” he says with a frown. “I really like you, Sinbad.”

“You want to court me?” Sinbad asks, looking amused. Mystras nods.

“Yes,” he says.

“You kissed me. Doesn’t that come later?”

“Yes,” he says, then, “Can I kiss you again?”

Sinbad smiles and pulls him in. It’s softer than when Mystras tried to lead. Sinbad knows what he’s doing, he’s experienced. His kiss like the tide, pushing and pulling in all the right ways. Mystras is like clay in a sculptor’s hands, being stretched and shaped. Mystras gasps when Sinbad nibbles on his lips. Sinbad pulls back.

“Too much for you?” There’s a shit-eating grin on his face and his eyes are hungry. Mystras’s knees feel like jelly.

“It’s a little overwhelming,” Mystras says honestly. He doesn’t want to hide from Sinbad anymore. He kisses Sinbad on the cheek before resting his head on Sinbad’s shoulder. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

“I never thought I’d want to have sex with another man,” Sinbad says. “I liked what you said earlier to Biftu, about how morals are ambiguous depending on where you are. At least about this. Some things are wrong, regardless of what others think.”

“Like slavery and murder,” Mystras nods in agreement. There’s a deep rumble in Sinbad’s chest and Mystras allows himself to follow the urge to kiss the side of Sinbad’s neck. Sinbad sucks in a breath so Mystras does it again, moving his lips up Sinbad’s neck in small kisses to nibble on his ear. Sinbad pulls him closer and Mystras gasps, becoming excited.

Sinbad’s hands rub down Mystras’s back until they’re sitting on his ass, holding him close. Mystras gasps when Sinbad starts to massage them, before biting hard on the skin of his clavicle. Sinbad moans.

“Sorry,” Mystras says. “Did that hurt?”

“Do it again,” Sinbad commands him.

“Yes, my king,” Mystras responds. Sinbad lets out a small moan at the title, and then breathes hard when Mystras starts to suck and kiss at the abused skin. “Do you like being called that?”

“Yes,” Sinbad sighs as Mystras leaves his neck to kiss him on the lips again.

“You are. My king,” Mystras says. “You will be, when you find your land and make your kingdom.”

“Do you really think I can do it?” Sinbad asks. Mystras stops kissing him and looks him in the eyes.

“If anyone can build a kingdom from nothing, it’s you. We all know you can,” Mystras tells him. “We wouldn’t follow you if we didn’t. Don’t let Serendine’s words get to you. She may have won the dungeon, but you’ve conquered far more than she has. And you’ll keep conquering them until you’re satisfied and have the power you need to fulfill your goals.”

“I’ve always admired your ability to be grounded in reality,” Sinbad says. “Remember when we were trapped in the Death Valley and you were the only one out of us to stay cognizant that we needed to escape?”

“How could I forget?” Mystras asks. “You and Ja’far were so frustrating! How could you not remember we had things to do? I was so mad!”

“You just wanted to sleep with that woman,” Sinbad reminds him. And yeah, Mystras did want to get laid. But that was curiosity and the fact that it was _offered_ to him.

“I didn’t like you yet,” Mystras says.

“Would you have wanted to stay down there if you had?”

“No, because I would have been so flustered looking at you. It would have been torture. Also, I wouldn’t have been able to hide it if I got, ah. Excited. From looking at you naked.”

Sinbad sighs and rubs Mystras’s back. “I wouldn’t have been very accepting if you’d liked me back then either.”

“But you’re okay with it now?” Mystras asks.

“Yeah, I think so,” Sinbad says. “I liked you kissing me. It felt good, and the more I think about it, the more I’m enticed to do it again.”

“I really don’t want this to just be a sex thing.”

Sinbad turns his golden eyes on him. “Then court me. Sasanian style.”

Mystras laughs. “There’s no precedent for this.”

“So be the first.”

“If I’m going to court you, it’s going to be the right way. That means no sex until you accept my courtship.”

Sinbad makes a face. “Can I kiss you still? We already broke that rule.”

Mystras sighs, trying to sound put upon, but it comes out overly fond. “I _guess_. If we just _had to_ , it wouldn’t be so bad.”

Sinbad pecks his lips and Mystras pecks back.

“We should probably go back inside,” Mystras says. “We have a long day of trade negotiations ahead of us.”

“And you need to start planning your courting strategy,” Sinbad preens. Mystras laughs, feeling light-hearted for the first time in months since he realized his feelings for his leader.

“Yeah, I guess I do.”

**Author's Note:**

> *screaming into oblivion*  
> I did so much research onto the background civilizations and their views on homosexuality to write this stupid fanfiction. Thank you so much for reading and I hope you leave a comment! 
> 
> Fun fact: The mythology I had Hinahoho reference is actually a real myth of a creation deity. They’re the deity of the ocean and marine life. Also, currently, there’s a large debate going on about the Inuit peoples’ current view on LGBTQ+ issues. So, if you’re interested in social justice, go check it out.
> 
> Thanks again for reading!


End file.
